All Hallow's Eve
by XantheXV
Summary: "Oh my God," Elizabeth said. "I know you...Ben?" The barber's cold hand grabbed hold of her chin, just to get a better look at her. His smile, a rare sight to see in centuries, caused the girl to shudder. His cold eyes, once dripping with hatred for the man who took his wife, were dripping with happiness. "Yes, Lucy," he said. "I'm home." Modern 2012 OC/ST-BB Rated M to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Hello, and Happy Halloween everyone! In the spirit of Halloween, I've decided to write you guys a Sweeney Todd two-shot! It's my first story in this category, so please be nice. I hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Sweeney Todd. Just my OCs and my DVD copy.

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**All Hallow's Eve, Part One**

_~Three Days before Halloween~_

Drizzle and dark storm clouds. Not much else was expected for London weather. Many of the citizens hoped that they would have fair weather on Halloween, but they weren't getting their hopes up too high. For them, this was normal.

But not for two girls from Florida, who were used to 100 degree weather and sunshine.

Both were visiting Europe for the year before they went off to college. Where, they weren't sure, but they knew they didn't want to attend college back home. No one could really blame them. But they did decide on where they wanted to live for the time being, and that place happened to be a two story building off of Fleet Street.

The girls moved into the building not but four days ago, settling quickly, considering they didn't bring a lot with them. When they first saw the building, it had a dark, ominous feeling about it. The first floor was a small shop, the paint on the building yellowed down and peeling. It read _Mrs. Lovett's_. At first, they weren't too sure about it, but it was the only housing available…and affordable.

Now they were settled in, transforming the small, run-down pie shop into a portrait studio and art gallery. And with Halloween right around the corner, they had become busy.

They had just finished taking Halloween portraits for a family of four when one of the girls, a Stacy Johnson, broke the silence that had ensued when the family left.

"You know, Liz," she said to her friend, who was currently setting up a blank canvas to paint a portrait for an expected customer. "Maybe we should just do this for the rest of our lives. No college, just pure and simply art from our own creation."

Elizabeth Thompson looked towards the freckle-faced red-head. Her soft blue eyes matched her smiling expression. "I'd like that. It'd be nice to stay here."

"That's right!" Stacy exclaimed. "You're from here aren't you?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Yeah. Not far from here actually."

"Well, I'll be. Is it just like what you remembered?"

"Almost. When I was younger it seemed brighter."

Stacy smiled. "Everything does when we're kids. Is your house close by?"

"Yeah, I actually passed by it on the way to St. Dunstan's Market. It felt strange walking around here again. It's like I've been here my entire life."

"Wow. Uncanny."

Elizabeth nodded with wide eyes. "Definitely."

The two girls giggled at that. As soon as they caught their breath, they continued with their work—Stacy put up her photography equipment while Elizabeth gathered her different paints and brushes, along with the original picture of one of their customers, and began to paint.

As Stacy was cleaning up, she walked behind the center counter in the shop and opened one of the draws to put the extra flashes up. When she did, she found an antique ring of keys.

"Hey, what do you suppose this goes to?" she asked Elizabeth.

The blonde looked away from her painting to see her friend holding up the keys. "I'm not sure," she said. She thought about it for a moment, and then added, "I believe the owner said one of them was to the shop upstairs."

Stacy pointed a finger toward the ceiling. "There's a shop up there?"

"Yeah. Mr. Wellington said that it was a barber shop at one point in time, but no one goes up there anymore."

Smiling, the red-head shook the keys and wiggled her eyebrows. "Wanna find out?"

"Really?" Elizabeth quirked an eyebrow.

"Why not? We own the place now. Might as well get to know the place."

Elizabeth looked up towards the ceiling and then back towards Stacy. "I don't know."

"Oh, come on, scaredy cat!" Stacy exclaimed, grabbing a hold of the blonde's hand and dragging her out of the side door.

"I'm not scared," she muttered as they began to climb the stairs.

Stacy giggled and let go of Elizabeth's hand when they got to the door of the barber shop. She selected the first of the keys and slid it into the lock. It didn't work. She tried another key, and still, it did not work. She did this four more times until a small, rusty key was able to unlock the door.

"Got it!" she exclaimed in victory. She opened the door and walked in.

Elizabeth slowly walked in after her and then shut the door. As she did, a small bell rang. This caused the girls to jump.

"God," Stacy said. "That nearly caused me a heart attack."

"Same here," Elizabeth said. "I didn't see that."

"Me neither."

The girls looked around the small room. There wasn't much there except for a broken mirror in the far left corner of the room, a small bed next to it, a desk/vanity on the far right wall, and an oversized chest next to the door to the shop. It was big enough to fit someone in it. And in the center of the room, a few feet from the large window on the slanted center wall, was a lone arm chair.

"Nothing much in here," Stacy commented.

"Not really," Elizabeth agreed. She spotted the desk and walked straight for it, while Stacy headed for another door on the other side of the bed.

Elizabeth browsed the contents of the desk. It was extremely dusty, no different from any of the other furniture in the room, but the items on it were extremely tidy. Nothing was out of place.

_Whoever used to live up here was very organized_, she thought. _For the most part._

Elizabeth continued to browse. She saw an old stationary set, some picture frames (but didn't bother to look at them, mind you), and something that caught her eye. On the edge of the desk was a small box, the lid open. Inside the box were seven slots for seven silver, dusty straight razors. All present, except one.

The blonde carefully picked one up from the box, dusting it off as she did. As the dust was wiped away from the small object, she noticed that even in the dim light that it glistened and shined. She carefully pulled it open and was surprised to find that even the blade was in good condition. It was as if time hadn't touched it at all.

_The owner must have taken really good care of these before he left them here_, she thought.

Elizabeth continued to examine the razor, admiring the intricate design on the handle when she felt the air grow cold, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up. And then that's when she heard it, the faint whisper of a masculine voice.

_Lucy._

Elizabeth turned around quickly to see who was behind her, but there was nothing. Nothing and no one at all. The only other person there was Stacy, but she was in the other room.

_Lucy._

She heard it again. It sent chills down her spine, but she wasn't sure if it was out of fear or if it was because, for some odd reason, it sounded all too familiar to her and it sent down chills of pleasure. The thought of that, however, did scare her.

Elizabeth looked back toward the desk just as Stacy walked out of the other room. Her friend walked up to her with a look of disappointment.

The cold feeling and the voice disappeared in a matter of seconds.

"Nothing in there, either," the red-head said. "It was just a washroom. What did ya find?"

"Just some old razors," Elizabeth said shrugging. "They're in perfect condition."

"That's neat!" Stacy exclaimed as she spotted the box of razors and picked one up. "What era do you suppose it's from?"

"I'd say Victorian."

"Maybe." Stacy put down the razor and grabbed one of the picture frames. She dusted it off so that she could make out the picture. What she saw caused her to nearly drop the frame.

"Liz?"

"Yeah?"

"Look at this." She handed the frame to Elizabeth, who took it from her carefully. For some reason, when she put pressure on one of her fingers, it stung.

Elizabeth ignored the feeling and looked at the photograph. She, too, nearly dropped the frame. In the picture, there was a woman sitting in a chair with an infant in her lap. Elizabeth looked up and gazed into the mirror and then back at the frame. The woman looked identical to her.

"She looks just like…" Elizabeth slowly said.

"Creepy huh?" Stacy asked her. She looked at her friend and then caught a glimpse of something she wasn't too fond of. "Liz, you're bleeding."

Elizabeth broke her gaze from the photo and then followed the red-head's line of sight. The stinging she had disregarded had come from the cut that was on her index finger.

"What happened?"

"I guess I must have cut my finger with the razor by accident," Elizabeth said, shocked at seeing the blood flowing from her dainty finger.

"Here, let's go get it cleaned up."

Elizabeth gently put the frame back on the desk, as well as the bloodied razor. Stacy quickly led her friend out of the door and down the stairs back to the studio.

Neither of them noticed a pair of dark eyes belonging to a tall form of a lean and pale man watching them out of the door window.

xxx

_~The Day before Halloween~_

"Here's your change, Mr. Turpin," Stacy said from behind the counter. "And here is your painting as well."

Turpin put his change in his coat pocket and then took a hold of his new painting. "Thank you very much, Miss Johnson."

"No problem at all!"

Turpin held the painting away from him a little so as to get a better look. "Do you still have the original?"

"Yes.," Stacy said, giggling. She pulled out the original picture she took of him and showed it to him. "Are you wanting to make comparisons again?"

"It is remarkable that my likeness has been copied with such refined detail," the man said, looking back and forth between the two identical portraits. "May I inquire as to who the artist is?"

"Oh, my roommate painted that. Her name's Elizabeth Thompson, sir."

"And where is she? I would like to thank her properly."

"She in the shop upstairs. She set up it up as a small studio to give herself some more breathing room."

Turpin's mouth twitched at that, but Stacy didn't notice. "I see. Do you mind if I—?"

"Oh, no. Not at all!" Stacy said. "Liz wouldn't mind hearing your compliments on her art. She may deny that she has any talent, but she does have it. Just make sure you knock on the door first."

Turpin gave her a warm smile and nodded to her. "Thank you, again, Miss Johnson. Have a good day."

"You too. Feel free to use the side door."

The older man walked out of the door and headed up the stairs to the small studio. When he got up there, he immediately knocked on the door.

"Come in!" a voice said from behind the door.

Turpin walked in, and then closed it, sounding the small bell that alerted the occupant of her visitor. His eyes widened when she turned away from her work.

_It can't be_, he thought.

"Can I help you, sir?" Elizabeth asked him.

Turpin shook his head to clear it, and then smiled. "Are you Elizabeth Thompson?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, Miss Thompson, I wanted to thank you for the portrait. I greatly appreciate it. And to compliment you on your exquisite work."

Elizabeth blushed a little. "Oh, well…you're very welcome. Really, it was nothing."

"Nothing? I'd daresay that it looks as though angels had painted it themselves. Absolute perfection."

"T-thank you." Elizabeth looked down at the ground and then turned to face her work. She felt uneasy and his presence there made it unnerving. She couldn't help but feel as though she had felt that way before.

Turpin's brow quirked up a bit. Without really thinking about it, he grabbed a few pounds out of his pocket and then put his painting down. He walked up to her and took a hold of her hand, and then placed the money in her hand. Elizabeth looked up at the man with wide eyes.

"Sir," she began. "You don't have to—"

"Trust me," the man said. "I do. I was once a judge, determining the fates of others. I have thought on my sins, and wish to be in God's good graces once more." With that, Judge Turpin quickly kissed her hand and then bolted for the door. He opened it and headed out the door.

Elizabeth shrugged herself out of the shock of what just happened, and ran for the door. "Sir!" she called out. She reached the door and looked out towards the stairs and towards the busy street. He was gone.

"Huh. That was odd."

She walked back into the studio and shut the door. She placed the money on the desk and then attended to her work.

She never noticed the Judge's abandoned portrait disappear out of thin air. As if it had never been there at all.

xxx

"I'm going to go pick up some stuff at the market," Elizabeth called to Stacy from the small parlor. "Do you need anything?"

"No, I'm fine!"

"Okay, see you in a bit."

Elizabeth walked out onto the streets and tried to hail a cab. When all of her attempts failed, she just started walking towards St. Dunstan's Market.

Once at the market, she went to the many art vendors to buy more paints and other art supplies for the upstairs studio. As she purchased what she needed, her eye caught the glimpse of something shining on the ground a few feet from her. She grabbed her supplies and walked over to pick it up. It was a straight razor.

Elizabeth looked around to see if anyone had noticed it was missing. When she didn't see anyone frantically looking about, she began to ask anyone around her if they had seen the person who did. No one had seen the item being lost.

Not until an oddly familiar voice spoke up and said, "I believe that belongs to me."

Elizabeth turned and came face to face with a lean, pale man with black hair, which had a random white streak, and dark eyes. He was maybe a head taller than Elizabeth herself. She couldn't help but gaze at his handsome features. When she felt that she could actually think, she smiled and handed him the razor. "Here you are, mister…?"

"Todd," he said in a smooth voice. "Sweeney Todd."

Elizabeth giggled at that.

"Do I amuse you?" he asked, confused. His heart fluttered, however, at the sound of her laugh.

"Are you joking?"

"No, I am quite serious."

"Your parents must hate you then."

Sweeney could help but smirk just a bit. "Why do you say that?"

"Who names their child after a serial killer from an urban legend?"

"I suppose, you could say that," Sweeney said in a guarded tone.

Despite his the fact that he looked as if he had been brooding for his entire life, and that he was a total stranger, Elizabeth felt at ease with Mr. Todd.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry. That was rude of me to say. I really didn't mean to poke fun at your name."

Sweeney smiled a genuine smile. "It's perfectly alright."

Elizabeth smiled back, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach as she saw his smile. She handed him the razor, which he took. His fingers brushed up against her hand, causing her to shudder.

_Why am I acting like this?_ Elizabeth wondered. _I've never met the guy and here I am, getting all worked up over him smiling and touching my hand._

"Thank you," he said.

"No problem. I should probably head home."

"Would you like some help?" Sweeney asked, noticing the bags that she was carrying.

Elizabeth gave him a small smile and nodded. "Yes, please."

Sweeney grabbed a few of the bags from her hands and arms and then followed her down the road towards the studio. They were about halfway there when Elizabeth accidently bumped into someone. Sweeney had gotten a few feet ahead of her before he turned around.

"I'm so sorry, ma'am," Elizabeth said.

The beggar woman grabbed a hold of the girl's arm and yanked her closer. "Careful who ye keep for company," she muttered.

"I'm sorry?"

"All Hallow's Eve," the beggar woman said. "Things ain't as they seem. Won't be normal 'till you're reunited wif 'im."

"Excuse me?" Elizabeth asked, confused. "Reunited with who?"

"Beware the barber shop. Beware the bake house. _She's_ there. The Devil's wife. _She's_ in the bake house. They can't rest unless you reunite wif 'im. All Hallow's Eve."

"What are you talking about? Reunite with who?"

The beggar woman never answered her question. The older woman walked off, leaving a confused Elizabeth behind to ponder her musings.

"Are you okay, miss?" Sweeney asked.

The girl looked to Sweeney, who gave her a confused and worried look.

"I'm fine. Let's go…follow me."

The two walked on down the alleyway and towards Fleet Street. As they did, Elizabeth couldn't help but think about the older woman's ravings, and as she did, an eerily familiar tune sounded from behind them.

_Alms! Alms! For a desperate woman!_

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A/N: There you go! Part one of my ST two-shot. The next part will hopefully be up sometime soon. Let me know your thoughts please. Reviews make me quite the happy writer, but please, NO FLAMES! I would just laugh at them just like how I laughed at the fact that Pirelli lost the shaving contest in the middle of that high note.

Feel free to join me on Facebook for updates, pictures, and what not. For those of you who don't know, there is a link to it on my profile page. Hope to see you there! ^-^

~Xanthe


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Happy Belated Halloween everyone! Here is part two of my Sweeney Todd fic. Sorry it is being posted so late. I got into the Halloween spirit a little too much and then I wasn't really feeling all that well the past two days. I swear I didn't eat that much candy! :D And this is going to have to have another chapter. Sorry, that's just how it happened!

A huge thank you goes out to those who have taken the time to read it and leave a review. You guys are awesome. Candy Corn and hot chocolate for you guys!

Without further ado, here is part two of All Hallow's Eve! Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Sweeney Todd or any of the characters depicted herein. Just my OCs. And the pumpkin I carved with Sweeney's face on it :D

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**All Hallow's Eve, Part Two**

_Elizabeth was walking down the streets of Victorian London, arm in arm with a man who looked similar to Sweeney, except that his hair was shorter and brown, and he wasn't pale. He was pushing a little carriage, which was holding a baby girl inside. The man was looking at her smiling._

_And she had no problem smiling back._

_They walked until they reached the flower vendor just outside of St. Dunstan's Market, and stopped in front a bin full of daisies. The man stopped the carriage and Elizabeth pulled the child out to hold her so that she could get a good look at the flowers. The man pulled a doll out of the carriage to hand to his daughter. He then took the liberty of taking a daisy out of the bin and showing it to the little girl._

"_Here, look," he said. "Flower? Do you want this flower?"_

_Elizabeth could help but stare at the man with admiration and affection. She seemed to love the way he was when they were with their daughter. The man looked at his wife, his expression mixed with desire and happiness. She giggled a little, and leaned in to peck his cheek. As she got closer, he quickly turned so that she kissed his lips instead. She gasped when they broke the kiss. "Ben!" she said._

_He smiled. "I love you, Lucy," Benjamin Barker said._

_Elizabeth smiled back. "I love you, too."_

_They were a happy family. He was a successful barber with a beautiful wife and baby girl. He really couldn't ask for more. And neither could she._

_Within seconds, all of that happiness was taken away._

_Out of the blue, two policemen bolted towards the unsuspecting barber. One of them whacked him with their riot stick and they dragged Benjamin away. The commotion caused the child to cry._

"_Benjamin!" Elizabeth cried._

"_Lucy!" the barber shouted._

_Their baby girl continued to cry. Elizabeth tried to come her child down, but it was to no avail. She felt a firm hand grasp her shoulder, and when she looked up, she met the gaze of Judge Turpin._

_She wuickly looked away and towards the quickly retreating forms of the bobby and her husband. Elizabeth could feel the tears streaming down her cheeks as she quickly put the child in the carriage and walked away. She pushed the carriage back towards Fleet Street, where she could be away from the man that took her husband away, where she could cry in the privacy of her home._

_Quickly, the scenery changed. Elizabeth was at a ball, drinking away, scared. She didn't know anyone there, and everyone was wearing a mask. She was told that the Judge had repented for what happened to her husband, but she couldn't find him. She felt light headed and stumble onto a round couch in the middle of the room. She felt dizzy and sick to her stomach._

_A man in a devil mask walked up to her. He pulled the mask away to reveal the Judge. He gave her a mischievous smirk and then came on to her. She screamed. He pulled his cape around them, so she couldn't really see anything. But she could feel his dry, harsh lips on the skin of her neck. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. And she could hear the laughs of the people around them, watching her torment as if she were mad to refuse._

_Elizabeth, with all of the breath she had left from crying, screamed again._

xxx

Elizabeth sat up straight from the couch in the parlor. She could still hear the scream she had emitted, but also that of another woman. It sounded distant, like it came from down stairs. She looked around, breathing heavily, trying to calm herself down. She got up from the couch and grabbed one of the pokers from near the fireplace. She walked into the studio and grabbed the ring of keys from the drawer, and then slowly started to make her way downstairs. When she got to the bake house door, she was surprised to see that it was only bolted. There was no lock.

_That's weird_, she thought.

Elizabeth put the keys in her pocket and then slowly unbolted the door. She opened it and was met by darkness.

"Hello?" she quietly called out. There was no answer.

She took a good look around her to see if she could make out anything. She could make out what looked like a meat grinder off to the left and tunnels that led to the sewers. She could hear the dripping of water, which added to her anxiety. She held up the poker higher.

In the middle of the room, she could make out a decent sized oven, which looked like it dated back to the late 1700's to early 1800's. Elizabeth walked closer to get a better look. She looked inside through a small window. There was nothing inside, but the reflection she saw near scared her to death. It was the reflection of a woman wild curly hair pulled into two pigtails, dressed up in an odd Victorian style dress. Her eyes were dark, and it looked like she hadn't slept in days.

Elizabeth quickly turned around to get a better look, but the woman was gone.

The girl walked away from the oven and towards the entrance, trying to figure out where the woman could have run off to so quickly. Seeing no answer, she turned around towards the oven again, only to come face to face with the woman.

"Ah!" Elizabeth screamed.

"I'm sorry, dearie," the woman said with a smile. "Didn't mean to frighten you."

"Who are you?" Elizabeth asked, raising the poker up above her head like a baseball bat. "H-how did you get in here?"

The woman gestured towards the tunnels. "Through the sewers. And I'm sure you know who I am."

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I don't." It wasn't a complete lie. The woman did seem oddly familiar to the girl.

"Oh, don't you?" the woman asked, looking confused. She shook her head and then gestured up to the shop. "Why don't we head for the kitchen, eh?"

Elizabeth nodded, but did not relinquish her hold on the poker. She followed the woman up the stairs and into the studio. The woman walked behind the counter and grabbed a glass.

_How does she know where we keep the glasses?_ Elizabeth wondered.

"Who are you?" she asked the woman again.

"Lovett," the woman said, pouring the girl a glass of water. She handed it to her with a smile, and Elizabeth, very hesitantly, took it.

Noticing her hesitation, Mrs. Lovett said, "Drink it. You look parched, dearie."

Elizabeth looked at the glass suspiciously, and then took a small sip. The water tasted strange, but she didn't want to be rude to the woman's kindness. Even if she was intruding. For some reason, this felt all too familiar.

_Like déjà vu,_ she thought.

"I'm sorry for intruding, Mrs. Barker," Mrs. Lovett said. "I used to live here, ya know."

"Did you?" Elizabeth asked. _Wait…Mrs. Barker?_

"I did."

"You were a baker?" The girl began to feel funny. She felt light headed and dizzy.

"That I was."

Elizabeth looked at the baker with suspicious curiosity. She noticed her smiling, and wasn't feeling all too good about it. She then looked at the glass cabinet behind her and saw a peculiar reflection. It was that of Sweeney Todd, and he looked worried.

_Sweeney?_ She wondered.

"What's the matter, Miss Lucy," Mrs. Lovett asked. "You don't look so well."

Elizabeth backed away from the counter, away from the baker. "Why are you calling me that?" she asked. "That's not my name!"

"Elizabeth?" she heard Stacy ask.

She quickly looked towards the parlor, which she instantly regretted, because it gave her a head ache. She had dropped the poker as she continued to back away.

"But it is," Mrs. Lovett said. "And you were gone. Had you stayed that way, he would have been mine. If the Judge hadn't caused me to scream that night, you wouldn't be here and he would have been _mine_."

"What are you talking about, Mrs. Lovett?" Elizabeth asked as she stumbled to the floor, feeling weak.

The baker picked up the poker and slowly made her way towards the girl. "With you gone, he would be free to be with me, to love me." She raised the poker up, ready to strike.

"No! No, please!"

Stacy walked in at that moment, and, upon looking at the scene in front of her, screamed.

Mrs. Lovett was about to strike when Sweeney burst in through the front door of the shop. The baker, upon seeing the barber, threw the poker away as if it burned her and disappeared. This startled both girls.

"What the hell?" Stacy wondered, rushing over to kick the poker away from Elizabeth. "Who was that lady?"

Sweeney rushed over to Elizabeth and picked her up. "Lucy," he whispered.

"What?" Elizabeth asked weakly.

Sweeney carried her to the parlor and laid her on the couch. She checked to make sure she wasn't shaking, making sure her body temperature was still the same. His touch caused Elizabeth to shudder because of his cold hand. Ootherwise, her breathing was normal.

"You're going to be alright," he reassured her, his fingers brushing against her cheek.

Elizabeth looked at Sweeney through heavy eyelids. "Sweeney?"

The barber sighed. "Shh, it's me. You'll be fine." He got up and walked into the studio, heading towards the counter.

"Sweeney, what's wrong with Elizabeth?" Stacy asked.

Sweeney picked up the glass of water and took a whiff of it. He grimaced. "Her water was drugged."

"What?!" the red-head exclaimed. She ran over to the pitcher of water the baker had poured the water from and took a whiff of it as well. She grimaced as well. "The water smells funny. You think that lady drugged all of the water?"

The barber nodded. "Yes."

Sweeney walked back into the parlor and kneeled next to Elizabeth. He took hold of her hand in his, and with the other, he pushed her hair away from her face and behind her ear. He watched her as she slept.

Stacy watched him as he did, seeing the different emotions flashing across his handsome features. She thought it was sweet of him to help her best friend, but odd at the same time. "You never answered my question."

"What question?" the barber asked, not taking his eyes off of Elizabeth.

"Who was that woman who drugged Elizabeth?"

Sweeney looked away from Elizabeth's sleeping form and to her friend. "You haven't figured it out?"

"Um…no. That's why I'm asking you genius!" Stacy exclaimed.

His jaw set at her response. "Her name is Mrs. Lovett. She owned the shop you're living in now."

The red-head's emerald eyes widened. "What?"

"I know you heard me."

"I did, but that's…that's impossible."

Sweeney stood up from Elizabeth's side and walked closer to Stacy. "Why do you say that?"

"Because, it was said that she did hundreds of years ago," she explained. "Like, in the 1800's or something like that."

"Really? Then how would you explain her appearance here not too long ago? Or her disappearance?"

"I don't know."

"How would explain my appearance then? Is my name not one of an urban legend?"

"Sweeney, I don't kn—" Stacy became interrupted by her own thoughts. She looked up at the barber, who was smirking as recognition shone on her expression.

_Sweeney Todd?_ she wondered. _Mrs. Lovett? Urban legend?_ She started to put the pieces together as she looked around her and at the barber, who was watching her expectantly. There was really only one explanation for what was going on, and it was the last thought that went through Stacy's mind before she passed out.

_They're ghosts!_

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A/N: There you have it. That's part two. Trust me, I would have put more on this chapter, but I felt it needed to end where it did, and I wanted to get this out you guys so you could read it.

Don't forget to join me on Facebook for updates and more! And don't forget to give me feedback! They motivate me.

~Xanthe


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: So here it is, the final part to All Hallow's Eve. I know this was supposed to be a two-shot, but the Fates intervened and said, "Nope, it's got to be three parts." Don't you just hate it when they're right? I do…sometimes. And I apologize that it wasn't posted on Halloween like I originally planned. Ask the Fates, because they won't tell me why they decided to let me have writer's block on this particular story for the past few months. Grrrrrr!

Anywho…enjoy the _final_ part of All Hallow's Eve. *looks up to the heavens* You hear that? FINAL part!

*Ahem*

Thank you to those who have read and reviewed this three-part story. And a huge Thank You to **linalove** for assisting me in writing a particular scene. Don't know what I would do without you!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Sweeney Todd. Nope. Not at all. *sigh* -_-

**Warning:** This chapter includes a rather…grotesque scene. I mean…it's not too bad, but that's the main reason why this story is rated M. I'm a bit paranoid, what can I say.

* * *

**All Hallow's Eve, Part Three**

_~Halloween~_

Elizabeth's azure eyes slowly opened, peering into the dim light of the parlor. She slowly sat up and looked around. She spotted Stacy sitting in the armchair across from her, her knees to her chest and biting her thumb nail, looking towards the fireplace. There was a fire going, and it lit the room up even more than she thought. She got up from the couch and touched her friend's shoulder.

"Stacy? Are you okay?" she asked.

Stacy jumped a little, and looked to Elizabeth. "Yeah," she said nervously. "I-I think so…"

"What happened? Where's Mrs. Lovett?"

The red-head looked back towards the windows. "Gone. Disappeared…into thin air. Right before my eyes."

Elizabeth furrowed her brow in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Stacy looked at her friend with concern. "She just disappeared, Liz!" she snapped. "She just effing disappeared! She didn't walk out of a door or anything. She just…poof! Like a freakin' magician walked in and said 'Abracadabra!'"

"What are you saying?"

The red-head sighed, looking towards the fireplace. "Why don't you go ask your _boyfriend_?"

Elizabeth gave her friend an incredulous look. "Excuse me?" _Boyfriend?_

"Sweeney. He's upstairs in your studio."

Elizabeth looked from her friend, towards the ceiling, and then back again. "He's here?"

Stacy nodded. "Yep. And hey, maybe he'll have a story to tell you while you're up there," she said sarcastically.

The blonde looked at her friend, confused by her hostility, and walked to the side door. She carefully walked up the stairs and then opened the door to the studio. Sure enough, there was Sweeney, sleeping in the chair in the middle of the room. In his hand was the razor he had dropped in the street not but yesterday. It was open.

"Sweeney?" she asked, quietly.

He didn't respond. Elizabeth walked slowly and carefully towards the sleeping barber, not wanting to really wake him up in a rush. When she reached him, she knelt next to the chair and put a hand on his knee, and then gently shook him.

"Sweeney?"

He stirred, but still did not wake. She looked at the open razor and, not wanting an accident to occur as she woke him up, gently pried it out of the barber's hand and closed it. She placed it on the floor next to her, and then looked back up at the sleeping man in front of her.

Elizabeth took the time to get a good look at him, something she didn't really get to do yesterday. He looked like someone who had been through a lot, someone who had been through things that no one should have to go through. His black hair, in combination with the dark circles under and around his eyes, was a stark contrast to his pale skin. But none of those took away from the fact that he was, in fact, very handsome. In fact, it was then that she realized that he looked very familiar.

_Where have I seen him before?_ she wondered.

At that moment, Elizabeth noticed that he was dressed differently from the time she met him. He was dressed up in clothes that would have fit anyone in the Victorian era. But then it hit her what day it was.

_Ah, it's Halloween_, she thought. But then she remembered seeing him last night. _Wasn't he dressed like this last night as well?_

She was about to contemplate it even more until she felt cold, soft fingers close around her wrist. She looked up and Sweeney's dark eyes, which, from that close proximity, were actually a dark, chocolate brown color.

"Good morning," she said.

The barber gave her a soft smile. Well, a soft smirk, anyway. "Good morning to you as well," he said.

"Do you sleep there all night?"

Sweeney merely nodded.

"You could have slept in the bed. And how did you get in here anyway? I locked the door last night."

"Stacy gave me the keys," he said bluntly.

"Oh."

"Are you okay?"

Elizabeth looked at the barber. "Yes. Thank you."

"What for?"

"For showing up when you did. If you hadn't…well, I'd probably be a dead woman."

Sweeney regarded her statement. "I suppose so. Unlike the last time…"

"Excuse me?" Elizabeth asked in confusion.

"Where's my razor?"

Elizabeth picked it up from the ground and handed it to him. He glanced at it briefly and put it in a small holster on his hip. He then pulled her from her spot on the ground, and then took the liberty of standing up as well. "Has your friend told you?"

"Told me what?"

"Has she told you anything since you've awakened?"

"Just about Mrs. Lovett's disappearing act and that you supposedly have a story to tell me."

"So she hasn't told you," Sweeney said. "Good."

"Hasn't told me what?" Elizabeth was confused, more confused than she had ever been in her life. Since she was little. In some cases, it was like following old footsteps—footsteps that she really didn't understand, footsteps fate had seemed to place in front of her.

Sweeney looked over at Elizabeth and, noticing her confused expression, led her to the lone bed. "You may want to sit down for this."

The girl nodded, not really knowing what to expect from her acquaintance. She sat down and looked toward the barber expectantly. Said man paced around the room for a little before sitting in the chair. _His_ chair.

"What do you know about the Sweeney Todd legend?" he asked.

Elizabeth shrugged. "Just what parents tell their child to scare them to behave. That he was a demon barber who cut people up and, with the assistance of a baker named Mrs. Lovett, put their flesh into meat pies."

Sweeney grimaced at her summary. "What if I told you that it was no legend? What if I told you that was what really happened?"

The girl's eyed widened. "What? That was real?"

"Yes, and that's only part of it."

Elizabeth's hand went straight for her throat. Sweeney noticed this movement and then eyed the area her fingers were touching—the area where her neck and shoulder meet. He licked his lips quickly, and then continued. "The barber had been wrongfully accused by a judge. He spent years in Australia and escaped fifteen years later, assuming the name Sweeney Todd. He had a wife and child, who he thought were waiting for him. But he became enraged when he found out from Mrs. Lovett that his wife had poisoned herself after being raped by none other than the judge himself and had taken his child as his ward."

Images of Turpin and herself from her dream came rushing back to her.

"Devastated by that knowledge, the barber decided he would get his revenge. That's where the meat pies come in. One night, after this had been occurring for months, he finally is able to fulfill his vow. He killed the judge, along with his lapdog, Beadle Bamford. And a beggar woman. But, when he and the baker tried to rid themselves of the bodies, he found that the beggar woman he had killed was, in fact, his wife. The woman whom he thought was dead. The woman whom he loved so much."

Another image flashed through Elizabeth's head. This time, it was of her and Sweeney. He had his razor opened and sliced at her.

"That's terrible!" was all she could bring herself to say.

"Yes, it was," Sweeney said. "He killed the baker as well, for leading him to believe that she was dead. He ended up being killed by the little orphan boy the baker hired to help her around the shop."

Elizabeth gulped. "So that's what happened…?"

The barber simply nodded, watching her, waiting to hear what she might ask him next. Could she dare say that he looked hopeful?

There was something that was bothering her. "What was the barber's real name, if Sweeney Todd was only a pseudo-name?"

Sweeney looked into her hazel eyes and said, "Benjamin Barker."

Elizabeth gasped, and stood up quickly from her seat on the bed.

"Oh my God," she whispered. "I…know you."

Suddenly, in a rush of emotion, she ran out of the studio and down the stairs. She ran through the side door, through the parlor, and into the bedroom that the two friends shared. She missed Stacy asking, "Liz? What happened?"

Elizabeth shut the door and locked it, pacing the room while images of a past life flashed before her eyes: Benjamin Barker being carried away by the police; her crying child; the unexpected ball; her death. That's when it clicked. Those weren't just dreams.

_Those were memories,_ she realized. _I _was _Lucy Barker. Which means that…_

She remembered everyone she had met the day before: Turpin, Sweeney, and the beggar woman. The reason why Turpin disappeared without his painting, and why Mrs. Lovett had disappeared into thin air. The reason the beggar woman's tune sounded so familiar. Why Sweeney looked so familiar.

_They're ghosts._

xxx

There was a knock on Elizabeth's door. It had been at least an hour since her conversation with Sweeney, and she knew that she would have to face him sooner or later. She unlocked the door, and met the dark eyes of the man who had been plaguing her dreams of late.

"Come in," she said quietly.

As soon as he walked past her, she closed the door. Elizabeth turned to face him. Sweeney looked as if he was about to say something, but stopped himself from doing so.

"I'm surprised that you didn't just walk through the door."

"I can't," he merely stated.

There was a moment of silence between them, with Elizabeth staring at the floor and Sweeney watching her intently. He opened his mouth to speak, not able to stand the silence any longer. But it was Elizabeth who broke it.

"This explains everything," she said.

"Does it?" the barber asked, just a little confused.

"Yes. The strange dreams I've been having lately…they're not just dreams, are they. They're memories of us. Memories of what happened.

"Yes."

"And you're a ghost. Only trying to cross over."

"Yes."

"Oh my God," Elizabeth said, tears forming as she looked up at the barber. _Her_ barber. "I know you...Ben?" She placed her hand gently on his face, fearing that her hand would just pass through.

The barber's cold hand grabbed hold of her chin, just to get a better look at her. His smile, a rare sight to see in centuries, caused the girl to shudder. His cold eyes, once dripping with hatred for the man who took his wife, were dripping with happiness. "Yes, Lucy," he said. "I'm home."

Elizabeth couldn't help but smile, seeing that he was okay. She only let tears fall when she realized that he would be gone by tomorrow, the beggar woman's warning replaying in her head: _Beware the barber shop. Beware the bake house. _She_'s there. The Devil's wife. She's in the bake house. They can't rest unless you reunite wif 'im. All Hallow's Eve._

Seeing that she was crying, Sweeney…no, Benjamin brushed his thumbs across his wife's cheeks to wipe away her tears. Tears he knew that were meant for him. He looked into her eyes, bending down slightly to get closer to her face. Benjamin then looked to her lips, allowing his to ghost over hers. Then, in a matter of seconds, he captured her lips with his, bringing her into a soft kiss.

At first, Elizabeth was shocked. But as she felt his tongue lick her bottom lip, her eyes fluttered shut and she parted her lips to allow entrance. She kissed him back, and when he became more demanding, she reciprocated with just as much passion. She could feel his fingers getting tangled in her hair, she could feel his free hand pulling her closer to him. Elizabeth had to put her hands on his shoulders to keep her balance, eventually wrapping her arms around his neck. She didn't have to worry about that for long, because he had quickly walked her backwards until her back hit the wall. He continued to kiss her hungrily, running his hands down her sides to her hips. His lips left hers, trailing down to her neck and placing kisses on her pulse spot. His hands left her hips and then slid down to her thighs so that he could pull them around his waist.

Elizabeth put her hands on his shoulders as he did this, keeping a tight grip on his waist as he hoisted her up. She didn't have to worry about that for long, because Benjamin ceased kissing her neck, quickly turning them around and walked them towards the bed. He laid her gently on the mattress, his lips returning to hers, continuing their passionate kiss. Slowly, he trailed his kisses to the side of her mouth and her jaw, and down her neck to her pulse spot once again. Elizabeth slipped her hands to his hair, gently massaging his scalp as he slowly applied suction. She gasped when he bit down on her soft skin and applied more suction. He caused her to whimper when he became firmer.

"Lucy…" he whispered on her skin. This caused Elizabeth to shudder and sigh. She opened her eyes and looked into his and saw that his dark eyes looked almost lighter, like warm, melted chocolate.

"Ben…" she whispered. She was about to say something else, but he quickly silenced her with another assault of kisses. Her hands fisted around his vest and shirt, which he began to unbutton. He nearly pulled the vest off when they heard a knock on the door.

"Liz?" Stacy called through the door.

Both occupants froze, breathing heavily from the event that just occurred.

"Liz? You okay? We've got to get dressed. We open at 10:00 today."

Elizabeth looked to the alarm clock that was on the nightstand. It read 9:15 AM.

"Shit!" she exclaimed, pushing Benjamin off of her.

"Lucy!" he reprimanded her. He was shocked to hear that kind of language escape her now red lips.

Elizabeth blushed at her use of the word. "Sorry, it's just…we open shop in forty-five minutes and I still haven't gotten dressed or gotten our Halloween decorations out yet," she explained as she pulled on a plain long sleeve shirt and blue jeans. She quickly put on some socks and her tennis shoes, grabbed her coat and purse and headed out of the door.

A confused Benjamin looked after her, following her out of the bedroom. "Wait, where are you going?"

"Yes, _Lucy_," Stacy said. "Where are you going?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at the red-head, and said, "Going and getting candy for tonight."

Stacy's mouth formed an "o" in understanding and then said, "Make sure you're back in time to help set up. First appointment is at 10:30."

"'Kay."

"Would you like me to accompany you?" Benjamin asked her.

Elizabeth smiled walked over to him. "Sure, but…"

"But, what?"

She put her fingers on the buttons of his vest. "We should probably button up your vest first."

"Ah."

The two smiled at each other before heading out of the door, with Stacy rolling her eyes from behind them, smiling.

xxx

All the preparations for the day had been taken care of. Elizabeth and Benjamin brought the candy and some more Halloween decorations for the studio. Benjamin helped both friends put the decorations up and put out the pumpkins they had carved on the sidewalk. Stacy and Elizabeth had a blast doing so before their first customers arrived, mainly because they got a kick out of the fact that they had to explain Halloween to the centuries-old barber. Neither seemed to mind.

By the time everything was ready, it was 10:30, and Stacy was taking pictures of a family of four in their costumes.

Elizabeth had checked the schedule to see if she would need to paint any portraits. Seeing that she had one for the afternoon, she led Benjamin up to her studio—his old barbershop—so that she could set up for the portrait.

A couple of minutes later, Stacy had finished editing the photos for the Robinson family, and rung them up. As soon as they left, she straightened the studio to get ready for the next family. She heard the door to the shop open and shut, and turned to welcome the customer.

"Hello! Welcome to…" Stacy trailed off, paling at the site of the woman who had nearly killed her best friend.

Mrs. Lovett smiled, and said, "'Ello, Stacy. Remember me?"

xxx

_~Halloween Night~_

"Trick or Treat!"

Elizabeth smiled, handing out candy to a Princess Aurora, a skeleton, and a Captain Jack Sparrow. "There you go, guys. Happy Halloween!"

"Thank you!" they exclaimed, running off to join their parents further down the sidewalk.

She walked back inside, closing the door behind her and putting the candy bowl back on the table. She walked back into the parlor and sat on the couch next to Benjamin. He was starting off into the fireplace.

"Ben?" she asked. "What's wrong?"

"You know what day it is?" he asked.

Elizabeth sighed. "Yes, I do. But it's Halloween! Let's enjoy what time we do have together and enjoy the holiday."

He looked over at her and gave her a small smile. "I still don't understand what's special about it."

"What's there to understand? It's the one day of the year you get away with getting free candy and dressing up as someone you're not. Plus, you get to scare people to death."

"I'm not sure I could celebrate it," Benjamin said.

"So says the man who called himself Sweeney Todd and killed people for a living," Stacy muttered.

A shadow passed over the barber's features, and Elizabeth shot her friend a glare.

"What's done is done," she said. "What's wrong with you today, Stacy? You look pale, and you usually love handing out the candy."

"I'm fine," the red-head muttered monotonously.

Elizabeth gave Stacy a worried look. "If you say so."

She looked back towards the barber, who was staring into the fireplace. "Ben? Are you okay?"

"I didn't mean it," he said.

"What are you talking about?"

"Killing them. At the time, I probably did. I just…"

Elizabeth got up from her spot and squatted in front of him. She put both hands on his face, getting him to look at her. When he was she said, "I know. I understand. You were upset because you thought I was gone. Like I said, what's done is done. That was then, this is now. Please don't dwell on it, especially tonight." She gave him a small smile, which he returned.

Elizabeth sat back on the couch with him and leaned her head on his shoulder. Benjamin looked down at her, and then put his arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer. He leaned down and kissed her hair, and looked back towards the fire. These were the moments he missed. The only person missing was their daughter. But he knew she had already passed on and crossed over.

Elizabeth looked at him and then towards the fire herself. She thought about the situation she was in. She had the ghost of Mrs. Lovett trying to kill her, and she was snuggled up next to the ghost of Benjamin Barker. Elizabeth knew that she wasn't Lucy. She just had Lucy's feelings and memories. This was something she knew in her mind, but not her heart. She wanted to be with Ben, even if it killed her. But she knew she couldn't. Not only was she, in a sense, a reincarnation of Lucy Barker, but they had until midnight before she knew he would disappear for good. She would be just as lonely as she had ever been, even if she did have Stacy.

She hoped she wasn't the only one, besides her friend, who knew that she wasn't _the_ Lucy Barker.

Her thoughts were broken when she felt cold fingers caress her cheek, trying to get her attention. Elizabeth looked up and saw Benjamin looking down at her, smiling. She couldn't help but smile back, and succumbed to the kiss he had pulled her in. When they had broken the kiss, he said, "You look beautiful." She was dressed in a long sleeved, soft pink gown for Halloween. It was the same dress he remembered her wearing many years ago.

Elizabeth blushed. "Thank you."

"Just like you used to, Lucy. Just like I remember."

Stacy growled at this statement. She got up from her spot in the armchair next to the fireplace and turned to face the couple. "Would you just cut the crap?"

"Stacy?" Elizabeth asked with an incredulous look. "What's the matter with you?"

"You want to know what is wrong with me? I'll tell ya. This," the red-head said, waving her hands in front of her friend and the barber, indicating that she was talking about them. "This is what's wrong! You two only met, what, yesterday? And now you're all 'I love you'. He's a freaking ghost. And news flash: You're not Lucy Barker. You only look like her. Your name is Elizabeth Thompson, and you were raised in Florida for Christ's sake!"

"Then how do you explain the dreams I keep having?" Elizabeth asked her. "The feelings I—?"

"You and I both know that they're not yours, so you can't use those as part of your argument."

"Then how do you explain…?"

Stacy never listened to her question, because she had just walked out of the room and stormed downstairs.

Elizabeth got up from the couch and followed her friend. Something wasn't right and she wanted to know what going on. Her friend hadn't said those words out of jealousy or anger; she knew her better than that. No, she had said those words out of fear. Did Stacy know something that she didn't?

She completely missed Benjamin get up from the couch and try to stop her. "Lucy, no!" he had shouted.

Elizabeth turned the corner and met the stairs leading down to the bake house, where she was sure Stacy had gone into. The door was left slightly ajar, and she felt the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stand up.

There was a light on in the bake house.

Elizabeth walked down the stairs slowly, taking each step one by one. When she made it to the door, she peaked through the crack and saw her friend standing in front of the bake oven, a fire burning in it. She carefully opened the door and walked in, leaving the door open in case she needed an escape. One she felt she would need.

"Stacy?" she asked. "What's wrong?"

Her friend turned around slowly to face her. When she facing forward, Elizabeth realized what was wrong. She could tell by how black her eyes had become, and sunken in her features appeared.

The woman standing in front of her was not Stacy.

"Mrs. Lovett?"

It was Stacy smirking, but it wasn't her voice that was she was hearing. "'Bout time you noticed."

"What do you mean? What have you done to Stacy?"

"She's under me control at the moment," Mrs. Lovett said. "You're not much of a friend if ya didn't notice her strange behavior earlier."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. She did notice that Stacy was more irritable towards her, especially when she was around Benjamin. She had even taken notice of the fact that it was only whenever she left the room that she actually talked to him. The Stacy she knows would never be like that, even when she was mad at her.

"I did notice," she argued. "Stacy never acts like that. I knew there was something wrong with her, but…"

"But ya never bothered to ask, did ya? Just kept to your own business."

Elizabeth shook her head, tears threatening to fall. "Why?" she asked. "Why Stacy?"

"Why? I need ya out of the way. I've done it once, I can do it again."

That's when it dawned on Elizabeth. "You loved him. That's why you lied to him. That's why you led him to believe that Lucy was dead."

"And that's why I need ya out of the picture," Mrs. Lovett said with a smile. "I hope you'll understand."

Elizabeth shook her head, knowing exactly what she meant. And that's when she also noticed the butcher knife in her friend's possessed hand.

"No," she whispered, and ran for the door.

Just as soon as she got to the door, it shut on her. She pulled on the handle, trying to open it, but the door wouldn't budge.

"Damn it!" she shouted. "Let me out!"

She began banging on the door, hoping that maybe Benjamin would hear it. She turned around and noticed that the baker had left her friend's body, who had fallen to the floor.

"Stacy!"

Mrs. Lovett drew closer to her, raising the knife ever so slightly as she did.

"BEN!" she screamed hysterically.

xxx

"BEN!"

"Lucy?"

Benjamin heard her frantic scream and ran down the bake house stairs. He pulled on the door, trying to open it, but it wouldn't budge.

"Lucy, open the door!" he shouted.

"I'm trying!" she cried from the other side. "It won't open. Mrs. Lovett's done something to the door!"

_Mrs. Lovett_, he thought. _That devil woman wants to keep us trapped here. I won't let that happen. I can't let that happen._

Ben tried to open the door again, but to no avail.

"There has to be another way in."

"How?" Elizabeth asked. "The only other way into the bake house was through the sewers."

_**No, they're not. There's another way**__,_ an inner voice said. _**You've just forgotten about it for the last two centuries.**_

_Of course._

"I'll be back. I promise."

"Okay," came her quiet response.

With that, Benjamin headed out of the small shop and up the stairs to Elizabeth's studio. His old barber shop.

As he headed inside, he cleared her art supplies away, and sat in his old barber's chair.

xxx

_Please hurry, Ben_, was all Elizabeth was thinking. She tried to yank on the door again, but it still didn't open.

"I don't know why you're wastin' energy tryin' to open that door," Mrs. Lovett commented. "Ain't doin' ya no good."

Elizabeth became frantic. She noticed the sewers, remembering that she had just told Benjamin that they were the only other way out. She made a break for it, only to be stopped by a sudden rush of flame blocking her way. She turned to face the way she came, facing Mrs. Lovett, who was smirking. Elizabeth ran towards the door again, but was blocked by another rush of flame. She groaned in frustration and turned in circles, noticing the ring of fire surrounding her, Stacy's unconscious form, the baker, and the bake oven.

She had nowhere to go.

"Poor thing," she heard Mrs. Lovett say. "Nowhere to run now, eh? Well, there is one way." At that she smiled evilly.

Elizabeth knew what she meant, and frantically began shaking her head. "No," she whispered, which grew louder. "No, no, no, no, no…"

Mrs. Lovett began advancing toward her once again, backing the defenseless girl towards the flames. Elizabeth knew she was growing too close to them when she felt it getting even warm than it had become. She stopped herself from being thrown into the flames, but that also meant she stopped walking away from the baker, who continued her advances. The girl looked around her, desperate for an escape. But there was no escape.

The baker smiled, which disappeared as quickly as it came when the two of them heard the clicking of wheels and turning of cogs. Both women turned to see where the noise was coming from, and from out of nowhere, Benjamin fell from the ceiling and landed on his feet.

"Ben!" Elizabeth shouted with relief.

"Lucy," he said, making his way towards her.

Elizabeth ran towards him, towards the safety of his arms. The baker noticed this, and didn't hesitate to take a swing at the running girl, the butcher knife cutting her upper arm.

"AH!" she screamed in pain, grabbing her arm.

"Lucy!" Benjamin shouted, running towards her.

Elizabeth looked at the baker and then down at her arm. She removed her hand from the wound and, upon seeing the blood, she became dizzy. She wasn't particularly fond of blood.

Luckily enough, Benjamin caught her before she hit the floor. He looked at her paling face and then at Mrs. Lovett.

"What do you think you're doin'?" he asked her angrily.

"Wot's best for us," she said.

"And you think you're the judge of that?"

Mrs. Lovett's expression grew softer. "Yes! I'd be twice the wife _she_ was."

Benjamin carefully placed Elizabeth on the ground, and stood up. He started to advance towards the baker, saying, "She is ten times the woman you are. I would never have allowed you to be my wife."

At that, Mrs. Lovett's expression grew murderous. She raised the butcher knife and charged towards him. Elizabeth, who had recovered enough that she saw what was happening, screamed, "Ben! No!"

Before the baker even made it to the barber, Stacy jumped on her back, causing her to stop her advances.

"Stacy!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"Get off me!" Mrs. Lovett screeched.

"No way," Stacy said. "First, you possessed me. Now you're trying to kill my best friend and her lover. Sorry, but you've messed with the wrong girl, bitch."

The two struggled against each other. Mrs. Lovett screamed in pain and dropped the knife when Stacy pulled on her hair. Elizabeth watched as the knife dropped, and slowly crawled towards it. Neither Elizabeth nor Mrs. Lovett noticed when Benjamin pulled the razor from the holster on his hip and open it. Only Stacy noticed the barber's action.

Which is most likely the reason why she yanked on the baker's hair once more, exposing her neck. In one swift movement, the barber brought the razor across Lovett's neck, blood spewing from it. The baker's body convulsed uncontrollably against Stacy until she was drained of all blood, and then grew still. Stacy let go of her, and the body fell to the floor with a thud. She quickly grabbed a hold of the butcher knife that Elizabeth had originally been crawling after, and saw fit to cut Mrs. Lovett's head clean off. She looked up towards Benjamin, who gave her an incredulous look.

"For good measure," she merely stated.

He didn't object. "Open the oven door."

Stacy nodded. She did as she was told while Benjamin dragged the body towards the oven and threw it into the fire. Stacy grabbed the head and threw it in as well, along with the knife. Together, the two shut the oven door and locked it. As soon as they locked it, the ring of fire surrounding them was distinguished.

"And that's what you get for messing with a New Yorker," Stacy said, wiping her hands on her ragged jeans.

Benjamin gave her a puzzled look, and she just shrugged. She turned away from him and saw something she didn't want to see. "Ben?"

He looked at her and then to where she was looking. Elizabeth was lying unconscious on the floor.

"Lucy!" He ran over to her and pulled her up in her arms. "Lucy," he said again.

Elizabeth managed to open her eyes. "Hi," she whispered.

Benjamin breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God. You're alright."

"I don't feel it."

"Don't say that."

Stacy came and kneeled down next to them. She looked at Elizabeth's arm where Mrs. Lovett cut her. It was a pretty deep cut, but not enough that she needed to be hospitalized. Stacy ripped a piece of her costume off and tied it just above the cut to stop the bleeding. "She'll be fine," she told Benjamin. "She tends to blackout at the sight of blood. We'll just need to clean it up and bandage it, and she'll be right as rain."

Benjamin looked to her and smiled. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

The barber looked back towards Elizabeth, who had her eyes closed. He knew she must have been asleep, the toll the wound was taking on her probably draining her of her strength. But he noticed something that caused him to panic.

She stopped breathing.

"Lucy?" He shook her, but she wouldn't wake up.

"Lucy!"

Still, nothing.

_No,_ he thought. _Not again._ He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers, not believing that she had died in his arms.

"Benjamin," Stacy said in a mildly panicky voice. "Look."

Benjamin barely lifted his head and opened his eyes when he saw what was causing Stacy a fright. Elizabeth's hair went from blonde to a dark brown color. He sat up straight when he felt her breath again.

"She breathing again," he said.

"Don't worry," a soft voice said from behind them. "Elizabeth will be fine. She's just asleep."

Both turned and saw a woman with blonde hair and blue eyes, wearing a dress similar to Elizabeth. She seemed to be glowing in a supernatural manner, so Stacy could deduce, with everything that happened, that this woman was a ghost. A ghost who just happens to know who Elizabeth was.

"Lucy?" Benjamin asked.

The woman smiled. "Hello, Ben."

Benjamin couldn't believe it. "Is it really you?"

"It is."

Stacy looked from Elizabeth to Lucy. "You possessed my friend?"

Lucy shook her head. "No, not possessed. I hid. I was waiting."

"For what?"

"This night. I was waiting for Elizabeth to come back to London so that I could be reunited with Benjamin."

"On Halloween."

"Yes. I've been watching over your friend since she was born."

Stacy nodded, understanding. "Everything makes sense now. Why she was having those dreams, why she had those feelings towards Ben. It was because of you."

"I know it wasn't the best way to do it," Lucy said. "But please understand, I was not trying to use Elizabeth, and I'm sorry things turned out the way they did."

"It's okay," Elizabeth said. She was fully awake now and sitting up, looking at everyone around her. "I understand."

"You do?"

"Yes. You wanted to cross over. You were stuck in between and needed a way out. But, why me?"

Lucy looked puzzled. "You don't know?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "What do you mean?"

The woman gave her a warm smile. "You were born here. Your mother gave birth to you in the parlor."

"What?"

"Yes. They were the only ones to have lived in this building beside your friend and yourself. Elizabeth, you're home."

"Home." She thought about it. It did make sense. When they first arrived, everything in the building looked familiar to her, minus the barbershop. "What happens now?"

Lucy smiled, and looked over at Benjamin. "It's time to go home."

Benjamin smiled at the thought. "Home."

"Yes," Lucy said, taking his hand. "Time to join Johanna and be a family again. The way we should have been."

"I'd like that very much."

Mr. and Mrs. Barker looked at each other lovingly and then kissed. An ethereal light shone in the darkness of the bake house, coming from the now open bake house door. The two began walking towards it. Lucy looked back and waved at the two friends before walking into the light, who had waved back. Benjamin followed his wife, but not before turning to the two and saying, "Thank you." With that, he walked through, and the white light was gone. The only light on was coming from the fire burning in the oven.

Stacy looked over at Elizabeth and offered her a hand. Elizabeth took it and was helped up.

"Well," she said. "That was definitely the most interesting Halloween I've ever had."

"I agree," Elizabeth said, wincing at the pain in her arm.

Stacy noticed, and said jokingly, "Alright, Mrs. Barker, let's go get your arm fixed up."

Elizabeth couldn't help but giggle. "Very well. Up the stairs we go."

The two friends laughed as they shut the bake house door and climbed up the stairs.

The two never encountered anything supernatural for years. Their photography business took off after the first few months. Stacy ended up getting married and moved out of the building, leaving Elizabeth to herself. Since the shop was still set up there, they saw each other Monday through Friday during business hours when they were working together. Her friend ended up having two children, a boy and girl, before she finally met someone.

A writer who looked exactly like a barber she had met only a day before Halloween.

* * *

A/N: Whew! DONE! There you guys go, the last part of my three part story. I hope you enjoyed it. I enjoyed writing it. Cute little drawings of Sweeney to anyone who can guess what writer I'm talking about :3 For those of you who don't know, I have a Facebook page now and there is a link for it on my profile page. I post updates and pictures (made by me and the awesome **linalove**) for my stories on there, so feel free to check it out! Even though this story is finished, I plan on making some pictures for it.

Thanks for reading guys! I still want to know what you think, so don't hesitate to press the Review button and leave me some feedback. I love reading them. They make me happy.

~Xanthe :3


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